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  1. #321
    Join Date
    May 2010


    First Poem For You
    -Kim Addonizio

    I like to touch your tattoos in complete
    darkness, when I can’t see them. I’m sure of
    where they are, know by heart the neat
    lines of lightning pulsing just above
    your nipple, can find, as if by instinct, the blue
    swirls of water on your shoulder where a serpent
    twists, facing a dragon. When I pull you

    to me, taking you until we’re spent and quiet
    on the sheets, I love to kiss
    the pictures in your skin. They’ll last until
    you’re seared to ashes; whatever persists
    or turns to pain between us, they will still
    be there. Such permanence is terrifying.
    So I touch them in the dark; trying...

  2. #322
    Wake, See, Sing, Dance Cellmold's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2012


    'One of (Lucas) Cranach's masterpieces, discussed by (Joseph) Koerner, is in it's self-referentiality the perfect expression of left-hemisphere emptiness and a precursor of post-modernism. There is no longer anything to point to beyond, nothing Other, so it points pointlessly to itself.' - Iain McGilChrist

    Suppose a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?"
    "Suppose it didn't," said Pooh, after careful thought.
    Piglet was comforted by this.
    - A.A. Milne.
    Likes Vasilisa liked this post

  3. #323
    meh Salomé's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    5w4 sx/sp


    Valentine by Carol Ann Duffy

    Not a red rose or a satin heart.
    I give you an onion.
    It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
    It promises light like the careful undressing of love.
    It will blind you with tears like a lover.
    It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief.
    I am trying to be truthful.
    Not a cute card or a kissogram.
    I give you an onion.
    Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
    possessive and faithful as we are,
    for as long as we are.
    Take it.
    Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
    if you like.
    Its scent will cling to your fingers, cling to your knife.

  4. #324
    meh Salomé's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    5w4 sx/sp


    Rain by Don Patterson

    I love all films that start with rain:
    rain, braiding a windowpane
    or darkening a hung-out dress
    or streaming down her upturned face;

    one long thundering downpour
    right through the empty script and score
    before the act, before the blame,
    before the lens pulls through the frame

    to where the woman sits alone
    beside a silent telephone
    or the dress lies ruined on the grass
    or the girl walks off the overpass,

    and all things flow out from that source
    along their fatal watercourse.
    However bad or overlong
    such a film can do no wrong,

    so when his native twang shows through
    or when the boom dips into view
    or when her speech starts to betray
    its adaptation from the play,

    I think to when we opened cold
    on a rain-dark gutter, running gold
    with the neon of a drugstore sign,
    and I’d read into its blazing line:

    forget the ink, the milk, the blood—
    all was washed clean with the flood
    we rose up from the falling waters
    the fallen rain’s own sons and daughters

    and none of this, none of this matters.

  5. #325
    MyPeeSmellsLikeCoffee247 five sounds's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2013
    729 sx/sp
    IEE Ne


    Ok, this is a quote not a poem, but I can't find the quote thread for the life of me.

    "Now, nothing should be able to harm a man except himself. Nothing should be able to rob a man at all. What a man really has, is what is in him. What is outside of him should be a matter of no importance."
    You hem me in -- behind and before;
    you have laid your hand upon me.
    Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

  6. #326
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    Oct 2013
    4w5 sp
    INFj Ne


    someone else may have posted it and it's not a poem, but still:

    "I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane."

  7. #327
    Member CheshireCat's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2013


    Psychoneurotics Manifesto 1972 brochure

    Be greeted, psychoneuroics!

    For you see sensitivity in the insensitivity of the world, uncertainty among the world’s certainties.

    For you often feel others as you feel yourselves.

    For you feel the anxiety of the world and its bottomless narrowness and self-assurance.

    For your phobia of washing yours hands from the dirt of the world, for your fear of being locked in the world’s limiations, for your fear of the absurdity of existence.

    For your subtlety in the not telling others what you see in them.

    For your awkardness in dealing with practical things, and for your practicalness in dealing with unknown things, for your transcendental realism and lack of everyday realism, for your exclusieness and fear of losing close friends, for your creativity and ecstasy, for your maladjustments to “that which is” and adjustments to “that which ought to be” for your great but unutilized abilities.

    For the belated appreciation of the real value of your greatness which never allows the appreciation of the greatness of those who will come after you.

    For your being treated instead of treating others, for your heavenly power being forever pushed down by brutal force, for that which is prescient, unsaid, infinite in you.

    For the lonliness and strangeness of your ways.

    Be greeted.
    "The unconscious mind should be called the super-conconsious mind."

  8. #328
    Senior Member AzulEyes's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2012
    7w6 sx/so


    So can we post our own poems? Or is there another poem thread? (Or perhaps I should start one!)

    Funny your assumptions
    Silly what you conclude
    I am not a box
    In your compartmentalized world

    Funny you would give advice
    For something not in your skill
    Funny you would assume
    I would swallow your pill (hah right)

    Assuming my friendship
    Can be conveniently "shelved"
    Is setting yourself up
    For dissapointment and hell

    For my choice is long made
    When you made the choice
    To continue to hurt me
    When I asked you to hear my voice

    When I asked you to stop

    And you didn't stop

    That's when our friendship ended

    When you showed your true colors

    That you were never a friend.

    You're not my friend.
    It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ~e.e. cummings

    7w6, 4w5, 9w8

  9. #329
    Senior Member AzulEyes's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2012
    7w6 sx/so


    Last night you kissed me
    Hugged me tightly
    A bond everlasting
    Comforting and right
    You've loved me
    Through it all
    Put my heart
    On a pedestal
    Caring for it
    Tenderly and carefully
    I will hold your hand
    I won't let go
    I will make up for any
    I will energize your soul
    Until you burst
    You are deserving
    And so much more
    It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ~e.e. cummings

    7w6, 4w5, 9w8

  10. #330
    just a vessel EJCC's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2008
    173 so/sx


    To A Violet on All Saint's Day
    by Paul Laurence Dunbar

    Belated wanderer of the ways of spring,
    Lost in the chill of grim November rain,
    Would I could read the message that you bring
    And find in it the antidote for pain.

    Does some sad spirit out beyond the day,
    Far looking to the hours forever dead,
    Send you a tender offering to lay
    Upon the grave of us, the living dead?

    Or does some brighter spirit, unforlorn,
    Send you, my little sister of the wood,
    To say to some one on a cloudful morn,
    “Life lives through death, my brother, all is good?”

    With meditative hearts the others go
    The memory of their dead to dress anew.
    But, sister mine, bide here that I may know,
    Life grows, through death, as beautiful as you.
    EJCC: "The Big Questions in my life right now: 1) What am I willing to live with? 2) What do I have to live with? 3) What can I change for the better?"
    Coriolis: "Is that the ESTJ Serenity Prayer?"

    ESTJ - LSE - ESTj (mbti/socionics)
    1w2/7w6/3w4 so/sx (enneagram)
    want to ask me something? go for it!

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